Flotsam

Look what got washed ashore
The Flotsam and Jetsam of some foreigners war,
And no. No dead kids on English beaches, that's for sure,
But then this is only an inadequate metaphor,
And that Turkish beach, is just as much mine, as "theirs" or "yours",

I will tell you now, as I told you before,
They beg for shelter, and we slam the door,
This is none of our business,
This is not our War.
These are not our kids, being washed ashore,

You can't throw anything away, when there's no such place as away,
And what the tide takes out this morning, will return sometime later today,
And we reap what we've sown, on the earth, and it returns to us in the serf,
And with shame we cover our eyes, this "Jetsam" was human by birth,

Not Arab, nor Black or Caucasian,
Not Latin, American or Asian,
Not Egyptian, nor French, Nor Haitian,
Not English or Jamaican,

But Human,

Not Muslim, nor Hindu
Not Buddhist, or Christian or Jew,

But Human,

And the Human race is not competitively run,
Tripping others to hold onto the prize you've won,
When we all have to live under the same sun,
We all stare down the barrel of the same gun,
Of Hatred.

Look what just got washed ashore,
The Flotsam and Jetsam of some war we caused,
And no. No dead kids on English beaches, that's for sure,
But then this is only an inadequate metaphor,
And imagine that child is just as much mine or yours,

I ask you now,  David, as I asked you before,
If they beg for shelter, will we slam the door?
This is all  of our business,
This is all of our War.
These are all of our kids, being washed ashore,
Because this garbage is real, and no metaphor,
Because there is a real human being, behind the closed door,

Flotsam and Jetsam of our times,
The returning evidence, of crimes,
Against humanity,
To do nothing, is simply insanity.





05/09/2015

Dedicated to Aylan Kurdi